On Archetypes
by Renfro Calhoun
Summary: Captain Rakoh Buuma muses about the very, very similar people she sees coming and going from Windurst Woods. Also starring the guy from Lessons and The Things That I Want.


On Archetypes  
A Final Fantasy XI fanfiction by Renfro Calhoun

Disclaimer: This game, its settings and ideas are property of Square-Enix. They are used without permission, but with the utmost care and respect.

Notes: Another separate story from my Lessons series, but featuring the same Red Mage. I've been meaning to write more about Buuma and her crew - they always struck me as the most fun of the bunch - so I whipped up a little something about what goes through the mind of the good Captain herself. Kindly blame any inaccuracies in her character to the fact that I never did get far into the story, due to my being death-prone. Extra-special cameo by the mithra warrior lady from "A Lesson on Attention".

Italics denote thoughts. Enjoy and/or comment at your leisure :)

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She appraised the hume before her with a look of intense boredom, the dark cast to his face telling her which cliche he fell neatly into. Sure enough, he spoke with a grave, guarded voice, and his eyes bore the look of a survivor of some nonspecific tragedy that, in all likelihood, befell his hometown and/or his parents. She'd seen them come and go, them and worse, as if they'd stepped from the pages of some trite novel. Not that she was especially well-read, but after the thirtieth warrior with a tragic past or thief with a heart of gold or wizard obsessed with power, she had long since gotten the basic gist of it. 

_You'd think the only normal people in the world aren't adventurers,_ thought the mithran guard captain as she absentmindedly sent him on his way. His progress was noted, though she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes when he responded to an honest inquiry - "do you know of the Horutoto ruins?" - with a dark look and a gruff reply.

Rakoh watched the hume depart, and felt a bit of morbid cheer at the thought of the novice swordsman running for his life from a pack of angry goblins or Yagudo, or perhaps a particularly dangerous bumblebee. She then managed a self-conscious chuckle as she remembered doing exactly that a lifetime ago.

_Rite of passage,_ she thought with a small smile, lightly rolling her tongue along the back of her teeth. _I doubt there's an adventurer or soldier alive who hasn't done _that_ run a few times too many._

As per usual for noon on a weekday, Windurst Woods was abuzz with activity, including the gate her company guarded. The massive stone archway carried in a steady flow of travelers, and just as readily swallowed a stream of people heading out. Their colors and outfits ranged from the mundane to the expensive to the hideously impractical; spotting a mithra in heavy armor, she cringed at the unpleasant thought of squeezing her tail through the chafing metal greaves.

Her two immediate subordinates were chatting idly with each other, neither one even remotely interested in watching the passers-by for trouble. The guard captain's ears were sharp enough to catch most of their conversation, but she didn't particularly care to follow it.

_And who am I to talk? The dutiful guard captain; only speaking to the important, never doing things of importance, aided by two comically inept but likeable subordinates... who's to say I don't fit in someone else's cliche?_

The blonde mithra gave Tih and Sola another look, watching the former give the latter a playful jab to the shoulder. "Comically inept" was, perhaps, too strong a term, as she knew both guards could easily handle themselves in a fight. Their generally upbeat and complementary personalities were often seen as a boost to morale, which was never unwelcome. Still, the captain couldn't help but feel that neither had the bearing or the dedication of professional fighters, and she suspected at least one of them was indulging in extra snacks while on duty.

Rakoh shook her head and let her gaze roam without purpose. _Perhaps we all can be so easily labeled. And speaking of which..._

A familiar face meandered into view: another hume, this one garbed in casual attire and wearing a nonchalant smile. His hands stuffed in his pockets, he strolled with a natural lack of grace towards the gatehouse, boots flopping clumsily on the stone and grass. His unkempt brown hair dangled and swayed with each step, just short enough to hang down above his calm blue eyes.

"Afternoon, ladies," said Karlinn, bowing his head courteously to Tih and Sola.

From what she knew of the red mage, Buuma pegged him to be a fairly normal fellow, albeit an uncommonly charismatic one. His unrehearsed charm stemmed less from a personal magnetism - he didn't stand out as particularly attractive - and more from his almost constantly friendly, laid-back demeanor. She knew a little of his aspirations of heroism, but her few prolonged conversations with the man suggested he was far too lax to actually do anything about them.

Her two lackeys greeted him warmly, and he briefly joined them in their idle banter. Rakoh suppressed a smile, knowing the hume did have one easy-to-remember trait in common with most of his race and gender: a near-universal love of mithra, as a rule.

The hume nodded to Rakoh. "Love to stay and chat, but I got a note for your boss."

He politely disengaged from the two women and started towards Buuma, who couldn't help but notice when Tih's tail swished to her side, "accidentally" brushing against his left leg. The captain crooked an eyebrow, but said nothing as she gave a nod of acknowledgement to the Red Mage. "Good afternoon, Mr. Karlinn."

"Hey-o captain," he said cheerfully, a friendly smile on his lips.

She smiled back at him, folding her arms across her chest. If nothing else, she was grateful for the diversion from her current lack of duties. "What can I do for you?"

"Tower guards just wanted me to run a quick message to you," said the Red Mage matter-of-factly, producing a small folded-up letter. "Something about requisitions or... or something, I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention. It's all written down here."

The captain accepted the letter, leisurely opening it and scanning the contents. Nothing earth-shattering, just weapon and armor numbers to check on; just a Star Sybil to reassure that, yes, there were precisely fifty-two swords, axes and spears stocked in the Windurst Woods armory. _I doubt I would have paid much attention either,_ she thought with a smirk. "It checks out. Thank you Karlinn. When you get a chance, could you rrrrun back and report that all the weapons are accounted for?"

"Sure thing chief, I'll go let 'em know." Karlinn started to turn.

"No, not right now," Rakoh interrupted, motioning for him to stay. "They do this every other week, they want us take inventory and make sure nothing's missing. I checked yesterrrrday and nobody beneath me has the key. If you head back right now, they'll think I didn't."

"Ahhh, I follow," said the hume in understanding. He smiled and wandered up to the wall next to the gatehouse door, and casually leaned back against it. With a playful lilt to his voice, he adeded, "Not like I needed an excuse. The nice mithra ladies want me to stay, I stay."

The guard captain let out a small, vaguely condescending laugh. "That's all it takes, hmm? You humes are all alike."

"Correction: us _men_ are all alike. If you're getting stares from women, that's a completely unrelated issue."

She had almost seen that one coming. An amused smile graced her lips and she folded her arms over her chest, relaxing her posture a bit. "Trrrue enough," she replied.

Karlinn threw a curious glance at the captain. "So what's new and exciting? Anything happen over here today?"

Rakoh shook her head. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Adventurers come, adventurers go..." she gestured to the gate as a scarred, heavily-armed warrior strode through the gate, just in time to cross paths with another scarred, heavily-armed warrior heading out. "And sometimes they are similarrrr enough to do both at once."

The red mage snickered. "Ahh, yes. Recipe for the common adventurer: four parts angst, six parts rugged good looks, ten parts better-armed-than-a-small-nation, fifty parts cliche childhood tragedy and/or amnesia."

The mithra knew what he was quoting, as she'd read the same article in the paper; a satire piece about the state of Vana'Diel. "For best results," she continued, "add impossible love interest, comical sidekick or bitter rival. Bake for fifteen to twenty years."

He joined in for the next line. "Dress in the ugliest armor money can buy and serve."

They shared a laugh, causing Buuma's girls to glance their way for a moment. "I don't remember who wrote that," he said, "but it's true on so many levels."

"It is," she agreed. "I don't know how many people who've walked through that gate fit that description, but I don't doubt it's morrrre than a few."

"Yep. That's the world for you: more people than stories." He stopped, thinking to himself for a moment. "Actually, scratch that. More stories than people, but fewer stories you haven't heard before."

"Of course, that raises another question," said Rakoh with a nod, airing her earlier thoughts. "Aren't we just stories everyone's heard already... to somebody else?"

Karlinn let his smile fall, nodding slowly. "Yeah... that's true, too."

The captain sighed softly, tilting her head slightly towards the ground. She never felt her own story was all that interesting, excluding the people she dealt with on behalf of Windurst. Raised in Windurst, a second-generation ranger with no particular accolades or adventures to call her own, apart from being a remarkable shot with a bow and a reliable captain of the guard. She gazed up at the sky, more of her inner dialogue tumbling past her lips. "I wonderrr... sometimes, I wonder whose are worth listening to. Who has something interesting to say, and who has nothing new. And sometimes..."

The red mage made a small, curious noise, but said nothing. He noticed the woman's eyes had drifted shut, her face calm and contemplative. There was something to her; her words and her bearing suggested not only experience, but also the limits of that experience.

"And sometimes," she began again, strangely quiet, "I wonder if mine is worth listening to."

Against all odds, Karlinn had a reply at the ready. "Depends on how you tell it," he said simply.

Rakoh opened her eyes and turned to face Karlinn, a blank look on her face. "You think so?"

He nodded. "Sure. Sometimes a story's worth hearing again, if you tell it a little differently; add your own twist to it, or just tell it better."

"It's all how it's told, hmm?" she asked, only partially surprised at his response.

"Well, it helps," he added, tilting his hand towards the guard captain for emphasis. "You never know, some stories are good enough to tell again. Just gotta... y'know, add something to 'em. Little more oomph, y'know?"

She smiled, just faintly. "Interesting. Perhaps I'll ask about yours someday."

"Likewise," he bowed his head to the captain, smiling back. "Mine starts with, 'I got a few other errands to run over in Waters, so I'll go tell the tower guards that everything's A-OK here.'"

"Very well, thank you Karlinn. Give them my regards."

"Of course." He began to turn and leave, but stopped in mid-step and turned back to Rakoh. "By the way, if you see a certain redheaded mithra warrior running around, feel free to quote-unquote suggest where I might be headed."

She blinked. "Certain rrrred... who?" Almost as soon as she asked, however, she remembered. Yet another cliche: a likeably tough-as-nails girl with a token soft side, who tended to show her affection to select individuals (including the red mage) by way of an aggressive tackle-hug. She'd seen the mithra in question before, and had witnessed that particular phenomena multiple times. The guard captain had little doubt he enjoyed the attention.

With a roguish grin, she said, "If she asks, I'll pass it along."

"Peachy. See ya captain! Take care, ladies!"

Rakoh watched as Karlinn, waving good-bye to Tih and Sola, broke into a jog and disappeared around a corner. Less than a minute later, she saw a certain redheaded mithra warrior scamper across the courtyard, clearly on the scent of someone and probably catching up fast. She chuckled to herself as the warrior approached, and pointed towards the path where Karlinn had left.

_All in how you tell it, hmm?_


End file.
